


Flexible

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Steter Week 2019, auto-fellatio, but it's peter, just porn, kinda stalkery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 11:17:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: Stiles hasn't been around lately, so Peter goes to investigate. Sex happens.





	Flexible

Stiles hasn’t been around lately. He’s been at school, but hasn’t been at any pack meetings.

When Peter asks about it, Scott says it’s probably a good thing, he’ll be safer since he’s “just a human.”

Not for the first time, Peter wants to pull Scott’s leg off and beat him with it. Stiles is much more than “just a human.” He’s one of the smartest people in the pack and one of the few Peter can stand for more than ten minutes without wanting to rip his own throat out.

So in order to settle his own mind, Peter decides to find out why Stiles is avoiding them. If anyone asks, he can say it’s for the safety for the pack. Not that he has any personal interest, of course. At least nothing we wants to discuss with those people.

Stiles is clearly intent on keeping them out. He’s circled both the front and back doors with mountain ash, along with all the windows on the bottom floor. Interesting. Peter jumps to the second floor and of course Stiles has lined the window sill with werewolf repellant as well. The blinds and curtains are both drawn and there’s something that prevents him from hearing what’s inside. Clever little mage.

Peter walks around the house, noting he’s also protected the windows to his father’s room and what might be a guest room (as though they have guests) from supernaturals. Again, he’s smart, which is why Peter’s so curious about him. One of the reasons.

What’s not smart is there’s a small window in a bathroom left unprotected. It’s small which must be why Stiles didn’t think it needed shielding. After a few minutes of pulling and cutting with his claws, he’s able to get the window and its frame out. Tight fit, but Peter’s determined and lands quietly on the tiled floor.

The sound proofing doesn’t extend within the house and as soon as he’s in the hallway, Peter can hear and scent his boy. And oh yes, this is his boy, Peter claimed him years ago back in that parking garage, and no one will convince him otherwise. Even if he’s the only one who knows it.

The scent is heavenly, even better than it is normally. Boy, plus a bit of some chemicals from his prescriptions. He can smell the sheriff and his guns along with Scott, although that scent is, thankfully, fading. There’s also magic, one of the scents he always associates with Stiles.

But mostly there’s the scent of lust-sex-come, strong and recent. It matches the noises he can hear from a room down the hall and Peter heads there, holding back the wolf who wants to break down the door and claimclaimclaim.

Of course since Stiles isn’t expecting anyone in the house, he didn’t lock his bedroom door. Peter enters and has to bite his lip to keep from making any noise at the sight.

The boy’s on his back, naked. His legs are over his head and his cock in his mouth. He’s grunting and moaning around it and Peter briefly thinks it looks like it’s making his neck uncomfortable, not that it seems to be stopping him.

He takes another step into the room, still not noticed. This is a good view as well, able to see the long legs, nicely furred and speckled with beauty marks. He ass is small and whiter than Peter would have thought possible, muscles flexing nicely. Plush red lips wrapped around a very respectable cock, eyes shut in concentration. Peter can’t help but sigh, letting his eye lids droop and he takes a deep breath through his mouth.

That of course, gets noticed and in a second Stiles is flailing, crab walking back to the edge of his bed, panting as he pulls his comforter off the bed trying to wrap it around himself, covering all the good bits.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god, why are you here, how did you get here?” he hisses, eyes so wide they’re taking up half his face. It’s adorable: he’s living anime.

“Let me see. I’m here because you vanished off the face of the earth. And I got here first by car and then through your woefully unprotected bathroom window. Does that help?” Peter’s sure his eyes are bright werewolf blue, but he can’t stop it and frankly he doesn’t care. Look at this boy, he’s beautiful and perfect, flushed and smelling heavenly.

“Well… well… well… I’m okay, I’m fine and I don’t need any assistance or anything so just… just go, okay?” Stiles pulls the blanket up around his chin, looking like a puritan maiden, while he smells like a bar room harlot.

“Oh, I could go, I could leave right now.” Peter leans against the edge of Stiles’ dresser and watches the boy twitch under his blanket. According to his scent, he’s no longer on the verge of orgasm, which is so sad. “Do you want me to? I suppose I could go. I could let the others know that you’re fine, there’s no health issue, you’ve just found a new hobby. I could explain your new hobby, I’m sure everyone would understand when they learn you’ve discovered the joy of cock sucking, with yourself as both the giver and givee.”

Stiles shuts his yes, letting his head drop back on the bed behind him. “I have to repeat, oh my god. What do you want, Peter, you freaking pervert?”

“Hmm, interesting you calling me a pervert? After all, I’m not the one who’s holed up in my home practicing auto-fellatio. But truly Stiles, kudos to you, it’s not something everyone can – or wants to do.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” Stiles asks again, looking fairly fierce for someone naked and wrapped up in a faded plaid comforter.

“I don’t want anything, nothing at all.” Peter leans forward, studying Stiles, trying not to be obvious about sucking in the beautiful scent of lust mixed with fear. Intoxicating. “I suppose I could make you an offer. If you’re really interested in improving your skills on yourself, I could, if you want, show you some techniques you might incorporate. To pleasure yourself or, maybe, in the future to pleasure a partner.”

Stiles shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath and then another. Which is probably good for a discussion, but it does temper his flush and that at-the-edge scent. Oh well. “You’re saying, what, Peter? You’ll teach me how to give head? Is that some kind of joke? I say yes and then you laugh at me, the poor pathetic loser who thought for a minute you might actually be attracted to him? Good joke, Peter, get out.”

His boy doesn’t think he’s attractive? Well, that’s just wrong, but Peter is not the kind of person to not take advantage. The wolf crosses his arms over his broad chest and covers a yawn. “I joke about a lot of things, but this isn’t one of them. It’s an offer, Stiles. Valid today only – unless you think discussing your new hobby with your friends is a better idea. Pick your poison.”

“So you somehow think people knowing I get myself off is worse than sleeping with you? Well, guess what, Peter – people know I jerk off.” He moves and the blanket slips down, showing off a bit of his chest and even one of his pretty brown nipples and some very respectable chest hair. “Ask Scott, he knows about the time when there were eight orgasms in twenty-four hours. That’s probably a record.”

Peter glances down, trying not to visibly react as though _he’s_ the horny teenager. “I’m not sure I want to discuss your orgasms with Scott. But eight is impressive and now I have a challenge.” He reaches out a foot, snagging the end of the comforter, dragging it down a few inches. It’s not any lower on Stiles, he grabbed it pretty quickly, but still there was a chance. “So you’re fine if your friends know that you like to suck cock, even when it’s your own.” Truthfully, Peter never said he was a good person.

Stiles’ scent goes sharp for a minute and his heart skips a couple of beats, then pounds faster and louder than before. “I’d prefer not, but it’s better than having them think we’re dating or something.”

“Dating?” Peter smirks. “Who said anything about dating? I said teaching you about oral sex and nothing else.” He stops and studies Stiles, noting his heart beat is all over the place and his scent is both nervous and full of lust - an interesting combination, but one Peter associates with his boy. “Well, probably nothing else. So your thoughts? I don’t want to think I’m forcing you; I’m giving you a choice. Sex with me or sex by yourself.”

“It seems like it should be an easy choice when you put it that way, but nothing with you is easy.” Stiles rubs his hands together, watching Peter watching him.

Peter grabs the comforter, yanking it off and Stiles would swear he doesn’t see Peter move before the wolf is on top of him, pinning him to the floor. “You think too much,” he mutters and then kisses Stiles once before moving down to nip on his neck and collar bones, which bruise so nicely. “Yes or no, Stiles? Yes or No?”

“Fuck yes,” Stiles mutters, grabbing the back of Peter’s head to pull him back up for more kisses. “I’ll regret this tomorrow.”

“That’s a good plan.” Peter lets his hands wander as he licks into his boy’s mouth, tasting the salty pre-come there, before he follows his instincts, moving down the pale body under him. “I, on the other hand, will have no regrets about this.” Stiles’ cock is still damp from his own mouth and Peter has to force himself to pull his nose out of the boy’s curls that smell like come and lust and everything that makes Peter think of his mate – yes, including Cheetos. “You smell delicious.”

Stiles chuckles, fingers tangling in Peter’s hair. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what all the werewolves say. Wonder if I taste good?”

He can’t help it. His boy had to mention other werewolves, making Peter’s wolf snarl and he’s left a scratch on Stiles’ thigh. Peter looks up, expecting anger or fear or the worst thing would be disgust, but when he meets the boy’s eyes, they’re almost black and his mouth is hanging open as though he can smell the want coming off his own body. “I’m sorry,” Peter says, licking and kissing the mark he’s left. “Maybe you shouldn’t mention others wanting you when I’m about to do this.” He traces the vein on the underside of Stiles’ cock, first with his thumb and then lets his tongue follow. The boy tastes as good as he expected, clean and salty and like a ripe peach that’s so so easy to bruise.

Stiles arches his back and his cock pushes at the back of Peter’s throat, but his gag reflex is a thing of the past, assuming he ever had one. Practice makes perfect.

Peter normally doesn’t like his hair pulled, he knows what he’s doing, thank you, but he can tell this isn’t Stiles trying to direct, it’s Stiles about to lose it. And it’s way too soon for that, so he pulls off, making sure to make an unnecessary, but satisfying pop.

“What? Why why?” Stiles’ bottom lip is swollen and his chest is heaving, covered in lovely, shiny sweat. “Why are you stopping, you sick fuck?”

Shrugging, Peter says, “Because I’m a sick fuck, of course. And this isn’t to teach you how to get sucked off, it’s supposed to be teaching you how to become a master cock sucker. I already am, so I don’t need more practice. Now, let’s take a few minutes and talk about technique.”

“Technique? Technique?” Stiles squeals, trying to grab some part of Peter’s body. He does manage to grab a sleeve and Peter back away, letting Stiles pull off his shirt, which is not huge hardship as he watches the boy’s eyes light up. “Maybe later with the technique?” He’s quiet when he says, “Maybe next time? If you want a next time, I mean, if you…”

Peter’s grin is slightly stupid and he can’t even be bothered to care. This boy, his mate, wants him, wants Peter as much as Peter wants Stiles. “Next time,” he answers and pushes the boy back down on the mattress as he sucks him back down.

Stiles grabs the headboard and if humans could smell supernaturals, Stiles would know he’s pressed one of Peter’s buttons. Big time. “Darling, if you need me to tie you up, that can also be a plan for the future.”

It’s probably Peter’s fault when Stiles comes in his face. And werewolf or not, that stuff stings. But they can work on technique next time. Or the time after that. Or the time after that.


End file.
